


In Absentia

by MarziWrites



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Angst, BAMF Lily Evans Potter, F/M, First War with Voldemort, Fluff, Head Girl Lily Evans Potter, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Order of the Phoenix - Freeform, Professor James Potter, Sirius Black & Lily Evans Potter Friendship, Slow Burn, Smut, first wizarding war, professor/student
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-18 11:08:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28991217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarziWrites/pseuds/MarziWrites
Summary: Officially, Auror James Potter's appointment as Defence Against the Dark Arts professor is a necessary precaution against the growing threat of an uprising.“In an unofficial capacity, your job is simple. Take note, of the good and bad. Observe. Fight, if necessary. Defend the vulnerable, embolden the resilient. And most importantly, James, recruit.”He certainly can't afford to be distracted by temptation, particularly of the fierce, redheaded, student kind.
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter
Comments: 12
Kudos: 23





	In Absentia

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my fic, In Absentia! 
> 
> Suffice it to say, this will be VERY AU, in that James and Lily did NOT grow up together, and thus do not know each other. Lily is much younger than he, and he will be her Professor. So fair warning to those of you who don't approve of such relationships - this is definitely going to be a bit of a forbidden fruit kind of storyline!
> 
> As this is an AU, I have taken some liberties with some of the details of canon. A lot will be the same, especially with characters and certain events, but since it is set within a different timeline, some events have been adapted slightly to fit this narrative i.e. the Lake Incident with Snape, Marauders, and Lily. This will be explained in more detail within the first few chaps =)

**ante bellum; before war**

The early morning breeze drifts through the thicket of trees surrounding the large, elaborate gates that James had passed through many times in his youth, bringing a small, nostalgic smile to his face.

He lifts his hand to wrought-iron posts but pauses, letting his fingertips hover inches away, as a memory flashes through his mind unbidden; two young boys, eleven years in age, only a few months past their arrival to their new grounds.

They were still in the infancy of their friendship, barrelling towards these very gates with ill-thought-out plans to escape and explore the adjacent village past curfew, only for the iron to systematically zap them through the air at their touch.

It had taken them a few moments to find their bearings, their minds understandably muddled in the aftermath of the thorough charms that were evidently imbued within the metals, but as their eyes met through the cover of darkness, comprehension dawned upon them concurrently, and they promptly burst into loud, boyish laughter.

Suffice it to say, they had received their very first detention that night, one that preceded many during their school years, but it was well worth the long and enduring brotherhood the anticlimactic occasion founded.

James chuckles at the memory, vowing to owl Sirius later in the evening once the chaos of arriving students diminishes, and inhales sharply as he sends a silent prayer to Godric. With some trepidation, he lightly touches the gate with the tip of one finger, but nothing happens. His smile stretches into a grin and he pushes against the wrought-iron gates, noting with cocksure satisfaction that the charm he so fondly recalls, the charm that marked the beginning of his close friendship, is absent. The gateway swing open effortlessly, exposing the footpath through the clearing of the forest to his gaze.

The trek through the grounds should only take seven or so minutes by the estimation of his 15-year-old self, who had gone through the efforts to time the walk up to the castle on account of a rather silly bet he had made with Remus upon their arrival in Fifth year out of sheer boredom.

He had, unfortunately, lost the bet somewhat abysmally when he had confidently wagered nine and a half minutes, and his mate had quite uncharacteristically boasted his victory for nearly a week, even though the information they gathered was entirely useless. But that was the nature of their camaraderie, all four of them; wagers are shelled out over the most ludicrous of topics to this very day, even at their respectable, adult age of 22.

His trunk and owl cage float behind him at a steady pace as his long legs stride forward through the footpath, and soon James passes a small but well-kept hut that houses the friendly half-giant he had come to know quite well in the last few years since his departure from school.

Eventually he reaches the Sundial Garden where he had shared his very first kiss with Dorcas Meadows at the tender age of 14 following a fairly awkward date in the village, and finds the Wooden Bridge that leads to the Courtyard and subsequently the entrance to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Memories of his time in these various spots assaults him at the speed of light as he crosses the bridge, but he does not pause to ruminate over them, otherwise his arrival could potentially take hours with the amount of tomfoolery him and his mates had gotten up to on nearly every inch of ground in the castle. He’d rather take the time leading up to the Feast to settle into his quarters and prepare himself to assume the generally accepted behaviour and characteristics of a bloody _Professor,_ of all things.

Never thought he'd see the day he'd have to teach children - be a bloody _example_ to them; he's barely even an adult himself! Merlin, they'd be calling him _Professor Potter,_ for Godric's sake. He's only just become accustomed to _Auror_ Potter, and that's a title he actually _wants._

For the millionth time in the last two weeks since it was proposed he be assigned at Hogwarts as an Auror liaison - from Alastor Moody, his bloody _boss_ in the Auror department, no less - he begins to question the validity of it all. 

Sirius's words from two nights ago, three pints in, pop into his head. Inebriation notwithstanding, he was the surprising voice of reason in the scenario as James vehemently complained of how awful it would be.

_"Come on, James - just think of all the House Elves meals you'll be blessed with, no effort to prepare them yourself what-so-ever! Even better, the loooong reprieve from Moody and his bloody demented training exercises, mate. Consider it a vacation!"_

_Yeah, a vacation with hundreds of little children that may try to off one another and a group of adults that he had properly driven to insanity not too long ago, and are more than likely questioning the sanity of the Headmaster at this very moment._

He finally reaches the Courtyard at the base of the Clock Tower, and is unsurprised to find the tall, commanding figure of Albus Dumbledore waiting at the doors, seemingly humming to himself as he regards the landscape appreciatively. His eyes land on him.

“Mr. Potter, I wondered who had arrived so early when I was alerted of an entrance at the gates.” The Headmaster says with a pleasant smile as he toys with the ever-lengthening beard that extends to his waist.

James Potter returns the smile with ease and inclines his head. “Sirius so graciously woke me up this morning with his _lovely_ singing in the shower, so I figured I’d get a head start and settle in before the students arrive.”

“Ah, I must say, singing in the shower is quite an enjoyable experience! It never fails to bring me joy.” Dumbledore replies without a shred of jest. James’s eyebrows shoot up in disbelief. “I find that Celestina Warbeck’s discography nicely reverberates in my bath chambers, although I am sure my vocals are by no means as extraordinary as the Singing Sorceress herself.” 

James was not expecting such a detailed revelation from the stately man, who _must_ be pushing into his mid-90s, and releases a shocked bark of laughter that quickly turns into a strained cough. He searches his mind for something appropriate to say and settles for a rather substandard, “I’m sure you have a charming voice, Professor.”

“Please call me Albus, Mr. Potter. You are no longer a student here, and we are, after all, colleagues now.” Dumbledore says with a wink, before inclining his head towards the door expectantly. “Shall we? I will show you to your quarters.”

James flicks his wand to reanimate his trunk and cage, and follows behind the Headmaster into the Hall, quickly falling into step beside him. He glances around in admiration at the expansive brick walls littered with portraits, at the wooden stairs to his right and left, and it almost feels like he’d never left all those years ago.

He could practically hear his and his friends’ laughter echoing through the hallways as they rush to class, late as always, or muck about with their various pranks in the blanket of nightfall.

Dumbledore breaks the amendable silence that had fallen between them. “Tell me, Mr. Potter, how does it feel to return to the halls that bore witnessed to your many youthful indiscretions?” He asks humorously as they walk down the hallway that leads to a set of large staircases. They wait patiently as they begin to move in their direction.

“Truthfully, Professor, I was somewhat apprehensive of my...posting, shall we say?” James admits hesitatingly, promptly disregarding the wizard’s suggestion to use his given name out of pure habit. “I never really considered any other profession than being an Auror, but I do understand the necessity of it – although I’m not very sure I’d be any good as a Professor; who can say how seriously my authority will be regarded, particularly with the Professors I may or may not have pestered incessantly as a student?” Dumbledore chuckles good-naturedly at this, affirming his suspicions. “It _is_ good to be back, though. I hadn’t realized how much I missed Hogwarts until I stepped through the gates.”

“I’m sure you will find that teaching will come quite naturally to you, Mr. Potter. If memory serves, you were quite an exemplary tutor for the younger students in your final years here, and you were fairly respected as Head Boy, regardless of your mischief-making past.” They arrive at the Sixth floor landing, and Dumbledore takes a sudden, sharp turn behind a tapestry that James had somehow overlooked. He rushes through quickly, holding the fabric apart for his trunk and cage to follow. “And as to the matter of your authority, you will no doubt find your footing, as they say, in no time, so long as you establish it openly early on.”

James replies cautiously, “I suppose you’re right. I just hope I don’t muck it up; I know how important this is to…the _cause_.” He voices the last word quietly despite the lack of ears – portraits notwithstanding – around them.

“Ah, and that is exactly what is of the essence in your appointment at Hogwarts, not to say your teachings are of lesser importance, of course.”

“Naturally.”

“The students will need to be best prepared for when they leave the safety of these walls, of which I have no doubt you will ensure.” Dumbledore says meaningfully as they stop in front of the door. He places the tip of his wand to the handle on the door, and it swings open to reveal a large, expressly decorated lounge area in maroons and golds. They step inside and James glances around in wonder, appreciating how very specific the flat takes after his own tastes.

Before he has a chance to properly explore his new living quarters, the door shuts behind them and Dumbledore turns to face James with a somber expression. “We are on the precipice of a dangerous war as you know, Mr. Potter, and your placement here can mean the difference between fortitude and servitude for those that are being led astray, and those that are endangered in the crossfires.” 

James nods astutely in understanding. He opens his mouth to ask the question that has been nagging him since his assignment, but promptly stops as he notices the many portraits hanging on the walls, no doubt listening in on the new voices that have entered their previously silent space. He glances at Dumbledore questioningly. “Is it safe to speak freely in here?”

“Yes. The portraits are forbidden to share anything they overhear.”

 _What a nifty thing it is, being Headmaster and having the authority to prevent the bloody_ Portraits _from sharing gossip,_ James considers with no small amount of reverence before he shakes his thoughts away.

“So, I know we discussed my appointment at the Order meeting, but what exactly am I expected to achieve here, Professor? The details are a bit muddy.” He asks, curious.

Setting down his trunk by the fireplace, he waits for the Headmaster to take a seat in the armchair, and settles himself on the sofa with a heaving sigh.

Despite the early hour, James suddenly finds that he is quite exhausted, and he wonders if it is simply a result of his unceremonious rousing, or the grave responsibilities that are about to be placed upon his shoulders. 

Dumbledore flicks his wand to start a fire, and delicately folds his hands atop one another as he regards James quietly. A moment later, he smiles with sadness. “As you are aware, my sources tell me Voldemort will begin to recruit for his army from within these castle walls. He already has a far-reaching following, and they have grown bold in their endeavours. He plans to spread his objective to create a new world order. His attacks will become of greater significance; casualties will rise considerably, particularly of Muggleborns and those he considers traitors to the revolution.”

“And you believe there is now a threat to your students.” James states factually.

“Precisely.” He runs a hand speculatively through his beard, trapping James’s gaze with his own. “He aims to target those that have not quite developed in mind yet, which makes them all the more vulnerable to persuasion. Some, undeniably, are already lost to his influence. Their families are too involved in the cause, and they have grown up with the prevalent teachings their relatives imparted. They will not betray the beliefs that have been ingrained in them from infancy. Others are on the fence; not quite believing, yet easily swayed with the right motivation.”

“Fear.”

“Fear.” Dumbledore affirms with a nod. “I’m afraid the recruits will do anything in their power to sway those that are uncertain, no matter the consequence. There may be violence and blood drawn to influence others and to prove their loyalty and willingness for the cause. An attack will likely happen within these walls, Mr. Potter, and we must do everything in our abilities to temper this outcome. The Professors have been informed of this development, and I have stressed the importance of being especially vigilante both in and out of the classrooms at all hours. Patrols will be enforced throughout the day and night, and having a trained and experienced Auror such as yourself present is vital to the safety of our students. I am hoping, too, that it will discourage any lapses, but I fear that may not be enough.”

James listens intently, reading the severity in his voice, but comprehension slowly dawns on him as he recognises the actual _selection_ of words Dumbledore communicates. A grim smile graces his lips, but amusement is entirely absent of it. “I take it that is what you want me to do as an Auror, in an _official_ capacity, should the Ministry asks?”

Dumbledore frowns shrewdly. “That is correct.”

With a slow nod, James leans forward and rests his arms against his thighs, eyes intent on Dumbledore. “And as an Order member?”

Dumbledore sighs heavily. “It _is_ important that we all do whatever is possible to sway students from joining the revolution. You must use your influence and authority as a Professor to instill in them the hope that following the right path will lead to a better future. That is significantly your role here, Mr. Potter. But you are right to assume I have other expectations of you.”

Those words sound almost ominous to James, but he has never been afraid of the daunting. As a child, and then a teen, and now an adult facing the grimmest of situations, fear rarely prevented him from doing what is right, no matter the outcome to himself. He prepares himself nonetheless.

“In an _un_ official capacity, your job is simple. Take note, of the good _and_ the bad. Observe. Fight, if necessary. Defend the vulnerable, and embolden the resilient. And most importantly, James, _recruit._ ”

**Author's Note:**

> Leave your thoughts in the Comments section pls!!! This will definitely motivate me to write some more. 
> 
> I'm very excited for this fic & I hope you guys are as well!
> 
> Mar x
> 
> Tumblr: marzi-writes


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